Bring him home
by Song of Stillness
Summary: Valjean prays over an injured Marius, prays for him to live…


**Bring him Home**

**_Scenario:_ **Valjean prays over an injured Marius, prays for him to live…

**_Author's Note:_** This is my absolute favourite song in Les Miserables. It never fails to make me cry. I went looking for a fiction based on this song – I saw stories based on 'I dreamed a dream,' and other songs from the musical, but none on this particular one, so I decided to write one =)

o0o

Struggling through the dampness and fetid stink of this dark drain, I wearily lower Marius to the ground. I can go no longer now. My bones ache, my head is spinning and I am past exhaustion, but more than anything I am afraid for the boy who lies in the stale-green water beside me.

He is past endurance and God knows what he's been through tonight… what we all have… and I do not know if he will make it. Slowly I sink to my knees beside him, covering my face with my hands as I very nearly succumb to tears, images of men, young men I had known being gunned down on the barricades, their blood staining the streets…

_God._

_God. God. God… God…_

_Where are you…?_

_Please… hear me… I need You…more than anything in this moment. _

_He needs you…_

I pause to drag in a breath, despite the dry sobs racking my body and study the still, pale face before me. A shadow of movement crosses his face, an eyelash flickers, the corner of his mouth twitches. But I sit there afraid, afraid of the metallic smell of blood that seeps from his side, afraid that he will not live to see the sunrise, afraid that I will not be strong enough to endure it. I sit still, very still and listen to the cold dripping around me, the slosh of water as it rushes by, the faint scurrying of rodents around me…

And my soul escapes the watery prison walls, flees into the cool, still night, transcends into the Heavens, to the One who will hear me…

_He is young God,_

_He's afraid…_

And in that moment I don't know whether I'm appealing for Marius or myself. All I know is that my heart burns within me and the tears track silently down my face. Images come to my mind, images of Cosette's radiant face as she told me about this young boy, her laughter echoing over the years, a ghost of her mother's laughter, conjuring up more images, fragmented, of Fantine, the one who shone like a star in my darkness, the one I had loved and lost…

_He's like the son I might have known…_

_If… if You had granted me a son…_

Indeed, it is strange now, as I look down on his pale, sleeping face, because in it, I see remnants of who I used to be… I see my youth and my vitality, the wild, untouchable freedom that shines in the hearts of all youth…My dream, that was wasted away by my decision to help my sister and her son, branded for stealing one loaf of bread to save a starving family… and yet I can still see the kind eyes of the preacher that took me in… the man who saved me…

_But will you save Marius God?_

I remember my absolute fear when I stood trembling before Bishop Myriel, knowing that with one word, if he chose to, he could utterly destroy me. And yet there was this the sad, almost indiscernible expression on his face, patience in his eyes as he spoke words of healing, words of forgiveness that numbed me to the bone. I remember feeling in that moment the strange sense of being unsure of myself for the first time in my life, of not knowing who I was and yet knowing, somehow, that I would never be the same again.

_Give him peace,_

_bring him joy…_

I am filled to the brim of memories like dappled sunlight, the joy of seeing Cosette grow over the years, the way she seems to bring joy into the room like a ray of sunshine, Marius pulling Cosette into an embrace when they thought I wasn't watching… There is so much in life to be thankful for…

_He is only young Lord…_

I have lived my life to the full, and I do not regret having lived it the way I did. My past still creeps up on me every now and then and I have shadows that have never really left my mind, shadows that pursue me with their deluded sense of justice, of right and wrong. But I am determined not to live in fear but through the grace that has been given to me…

_You can take…_

_You can give…_

I was given my life back, my health back, a new name, a new purpose… and a girl with speaking eyes to raise as a daughter…

The sound of rushing wind brings me back to the present, and I hear the faint drip, drip of water and smell the gritty smell of dirt and blood, and know I am still in this airless drain. I look again at Marius and am struck by the simple things, the way his shallow breathing lifts his chest slightly, the way his cheeks reflect the grey, damp concrete walls. I stand up slowly, wearily, knowing that I have no more say in this matter than the next person, when it comes to life or death… But I will have it, nonetheless. I lean my head against the cold cement, placing my palms on either side, pleading in earnest, pleading with all that I am.

_I have lived Lord… I am old, he is young!_

_Take me!_

_Take me instead of him._

_Let him live…_

And again the tears come, stinging and salty and I once more sink beside him, tracing the back of a knuckle across a warm cheekbone. I cannot change the will of God. Who am I to challenge Him? Who am I that He should see me, that He should hear me? _Oh Lord,_ _What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you should care for him?_ What is willed will come to pass. I am not a saint, I am just a man, a man who ran from God and who God redeemed.

_Let him live, Lord._

_Please… let him live…_

For Cosette? For my own sanity? For both. Because he reminds me of myself… or the son I never had?

An image of Rue Plumet melts into my mind, and I see the windows that open up onto the gardens, sunlight coming through in diamand fragments. Cosette disappearing through one of the doorways, with her secret smile and a dress that whispers across the shiny wooden floors. _Home_. My home. A home to live and die for… a home that is as much Marius's as mine. And words come to me…healing words that bring reassurance, renewal and a sense of peace.

_Lord, bring him home…_

And the dank smell of drains and dis-coloured water seems to vanish in that moment, as the air becomes lighter, still, more palpable as if an unseen presence has alighted in the cramped, sordid space and it is as if a quiet voice whispers in my ear._ I hear you_.


End file.
